The Immortal Ascension Battlefield was far from calm. Large numbers of people were moving out — belonging to different factions, yet all sharing one common objective: to find Ye Fan.

The vegetation was lush and rich, and one fierce beast after another let out savage roars. This was a region of rolling hills. A company of warriors passed through carrying a murderous aura so piercing and cold that even the leaves on the trees withered and fell, as though a blade of autumn wind had swept through.

They were clad in metal armor that gleamed with a cold and savage light, like a host of heavenly soldiers descended from on high. Each and every one of them possessed the combat power of a Great Sage, no less than the supreme warriors of the ancient Heavenly Court in its time.

“A man who once made the Overlord suffer a setback — what makes him so different? Three hundred years have passed. Many things have changed. It is no longer like before!”

Someone spoke in a cold and remote tone. The iron garment they wore rang with a metallic sound. These individuals all looked utterly without feeling, carrying a powerful aura — every one of them an expert.

They came from the same faction and followed the same person. They were few of words, like gods and demons who had broken free from the shackles of the underworld and slaughtered their way out — cold and ruthless.

They were the Overlord’s followers. Some had come from the Overlord Body’s ancestral star, while others had encountered him in the clash and chaos of the star domains and chosen to follow him ever since.

In those distant days, Ye Fan had fought countless battles, sweeping mightily across the human race’s ancient road — undefeated all the way. But his battle against the Overlord had been unquestionably grueling. In that fight, his holy blood had spilled across the starry sky and he had sustained severe injuries. Looking back across his entire life, there were scarcely a handful of moments as dangerous as that one — when he had fought until his holy blood surged uncontrollably.

In that battle the Overlord had been defeated, yet it could not be called a great humiliation — he had simply come up short by one step. Moreover, in that exchange, Ye Fan had activated the Divine Prohibition. Without that, the Overlord might have still had a chance.

In truth, among the people of that generation, the Overlord was absolutely a peerless powerhouse. Yet many only remembered that he had been defeated, overlooking the inner circumstances of that battle — the involvement of the Divine Prohibition.

He was a world-shaking, supremely fierce figure who had been gravely underestimated. On the path of the Emperor’s Road, he possessed tremendous potential and qualification. Given sufficient opportunity, there would be no problem for him to reign supreme across the world.

In another region, across an open stretch of earth, a group of powerful figures appeared. Black mist surged and roiled around them, as though a company of supreme demon lords had descended into the mortal world. Their numbers were considerable — already over twenty — currently surpassing any other single faction.

Where they passed, birds took flight in alarm and beasts scattered in terror. Every living creature was filled with dread, for the aura of death was far too oppressive. At their head rode a death knight clad in black armor, shrouded in the mist of the underworld.

“The underworld is the final destination of all souls. How could the Holy Body be absent from it…”

A cold and remote voice rang out, like the sigh of a death god. It made one’s hair stand on end, laden with the deathly intent of the wraith world, as though it had drifted across from the realm of the dead.

They had come from the underworld. Only a few of the leaders possessed autonomous consciousness. The other death knights were powerful instruments of war, summoned forth and without any consciousness of their own.

Of course, the one contending on the Emperor’s Road from the underworld had not personally appeared. These were merely a few of his followers. He himself was currently locked in a fierce and covert struggle within the Great Emperor’s Gate and had not yet descended to this place.

Before a magnificent and sweeping great waterfall, a man stood bare-chested. His bronze-hued body was powerfully and explosively built, brimming with explosive force. His eyes were filled with the glow of wild, untamed light.

“Three hundred years have passed. The times have changed. Holy Body of the human race — you are already old!”

With a thunderous boom, the great waterfall reversed, flowing upward. The immense cascade — thousands of zhang tall — was actually compelled to do so by a single sharp shout. It was truly an earth-shattering spectacle.

For this was not accomplished through magical power, but rather through a terrifying sound wave, combined with his surging blood-energy — as vast as an ocean — which actually caused the mountains and valleys all around to tremble and shake, many peaks cracking apart.

This was a representative powerhouse among the later generation’s experts — one of the strongest few in the past three hundred years. His name was Tuoba Mo. Everything he said and did was like that of a demon, with no restraints whatsoever, overwhelmingly aggressive.

In the past, he had slain many Elder Great Sages, washed ancient, immortal sacred grounds in blood, and was ruthless and vicious in his methods.

At this moment, his eyes were like those of an eagle — sharp and piercing. His thick, dark hair hung loose over his bronze-hued body, lending him a demonic quality.

Before a thatched hermitage, a young man in blue robes sat cross-legged beneath an ancient tree, an antique sword resting across his knees. He looked otherworldly, carrying the bearing of one transcending this world.

“They all say you met with an accident. If that is the case, there is no need to inform my master. Holy Body Ye Fan, you have left my master in regret for three hundred years — in those days, he searched for you everywhere but could not find you, unable to bring down a single sword stroke. Today, I will fight in my master’s stead, so that this old grievance may finally be settled.”

He was Yin Tiande’s foremost disciple — named Yi Ming. His mastery of formation inscriptions ran extraordinarily deep, and his combat power was more astonishing still — supremely formidable. He had once swept across several ancient roads single-handedly.

Hum!

The ancient sword resting on his knees let out a soft cry. Without the bolstering of any Dao principles or magical power, it still suddenly shot toward the sky like a ribbon of silk, piercing through the clouds and splitting the heavens apart — terrifying beyond measure.

“Is it truly him — to have traded blows with a supreme being and still come out alive? It is simply a miracle!”

“Wrong. From this point on he no longer exists in this world. He is merely a demonic scourge, nothing more — one who need only be cut down!”

The Immortal Ascension Battlefield was boundless, its magnificent rivers and mountains stretching in every direction. Its territory was truly immense. The regions where Ye Fan had passed were left in turmoil, and a great upheaval had begun.

“Three hundred years later, there is no longer a Holy Body Ye Fan in this world. Whoever dares appear under that name shall be killed without question!”

The wind cried and beasts howled. The mountains and rivers were filled with murderous aura. Vast companies of warriors were on the move, their killing intent blotting out the sun, causing even this battlefield to nearly tremble. The mightiest experts were all emerging, advancing toward a single direction. Many marched as though facing a great enemy — as though they were about to besiege a supreme demonic lord.

Despite the various rumors claiming that this person’s body had suffered grave problems — otherwise he would not have only appeared now — that name from the past was far too resounding, and those who harbored enmity toward him still did not dare be careless. Every single one of them was exceedingly cautious.

This was a group of people who were hostile toward Ye Fan — some with old grudges from the past, others because his existence blocked certain people’s paths, and he had to be forcibly removed.

Yet on the surface, not one of them dared openly declare they intended to kill Holy Body Ye Fan. Every single one hoisted the banner of fighting for Senior Ye Fan’s reputation and glory.

No one dared defy the momentum of public sentiment. If one were truly brazen enough to discard all restraint and act openly, they would inevitably be drowned in the contempt of the entire world in the future — if not killed, then condemned to infamy for many years.

Such was the cold-bloodedness of this group. In this current era, they dared to step forward, blades sharpened, acting in concert — though some among them were inwardly fearful and uneasy, hoping to exterminate him through a joint siege.

Of course, there were also no small number who were pursuing Ye Fan’s footsteps with reverence in their hearts — both excited and anxious.

The Immortal Ascension Battlefield was vast. This was merely the great upheaval in the outer regions, and it had not yet spread into the deepest parts of the battlefield. Only the areas where Ye Fan had appeared were in turmoil.

Over the following two days, Ye Fan sensed an unusual atmosphere. He had the Blood Crow descend to the ground, then turned around and retraced his steps.

“You go,” Ye Fan said to the Blood Crow, no longer using it as transport.

“I won’t leave. In the past I did not know who you were and may have been discourteous, but now…” The Blood Crow refused to depart.

Ye Fan shook his head. To remain by his side would inevitably be dangerous. Though he had lost his magical power, he still possessed a powerful instinct, and he had sensed the unusual movements of these past two days.

The Blood Crow Great Sage refused to leave, willing to become his follower, its attitude utterly resolute.

Ye Fan glanced at it, said nothing more, and set off with long strides, disappearing into the mountains and rivers. There were forests and silver waterfalls within. The Blood Crow spread its wings, but from the heights of the sky, it could not catch sight of his figure at all.

A day later, Ye Fan formally encountered a large group of people in an open clearing.

There were no words. Over twenty mounted riders came charging from the opposite direction. The entire earth trembled and great cracks split open across the ground — it was a company of death knights.

They carried with them a heavy aura of death, as though they had crossed time and space from the underworld. The sound of hoofbeats rumbled like crashing thunder, formally opening the eerie atmosphere of that day, turning an unspoken accord into a tribulation of slaughter.

Those from the underworld arrived first. They had come to take Ye Fan. Only the few leaders among them possessed autonomous consciousness — but even the other death warriors all possessed Great Sage bodies, for they were all people who had died in battle in ancient times.

Black mist rose to the heavens, carrying ominous signs and the aura of wraiths. It swallowed up the entire open battlefield. Wind and thunder arose together, transforming into the wrathful cry of fate.

“You have already died once. At the end of the cycle of reincarnation, eternity awaits. The underworld is your destination!” The lead knight bellowed.

Ye Fan stood there, firm as a boulder. As the over twenty riders drew near and the black great halberd — a full zhang in length — nearly came crashing down upon his head, he finally began to move.

Clang!

A single light ring, and the great halberd in the foremost rider’s hand shattered outright. Shards of black divine iron flew in all directions, killing and wounding many of those behind.

Ye Fan’s face was expressionless. He burst forward, his movements impossibly fast. With a single punch he destroyed a Great Sage weapon, and here began a great slaughter.

These were powerful beings — extraordinary figures in their lifetimes, each renowned across an entire domain, each with tremendous standing. After death they had fallen into the underworld, becoming soldiers and commanders of the shades — instruments of war — with bodies of bronze sinew and iron bone, possessing indestructible physiques.

But unfortunately, they had encountered Ye Fan. His physical body was even more ferociously powerful. Like a phantom, he shifted left and right, moving with incomprehensible speed. His palms surpassed supreme sacred weapons.

A short while later, Ye Fan drove his fist through the skull of the lead rider, then followed up in rapid succession. There was no spurting of blood — only the shattering of bodies — all of them beaten into broken bone fragments and blood mist.

Ye Fan stood silently for a moment in place, then continued on his way. His clothing was simple — given to him by the young man Bai Ye — and by now he looked like an ascetic cultivator.

“I have heard that you are impersonating the heroic Holy Body Ye Fan of the human race. The glory and prestige of our predecessor must not be stained. Today I will nail you to a blood-dripping cross!”

Another encounter — this time with far greater numbers. People from numerous factions had gathered together, sealing off this ancient battlefield, surrounding the area without a single gap.

At their head was a middle-aged man carrying a spear, severe in both expression and voice, mounted astride a blue Qilin beast. The spear was a full two zhang long, lending him an impressively mighty bearing.

He was a peak Great Sage — one of the disciples without a formal master-and-disciple relationship taken in by the Lord of the Divine Court — whose name had been inscribed on a crystalline stele. He had arrived at this place.

He and a group of others were followers of the Lord Emperor’s son, though the one they served had not appeared here — he was currently contending within the Great Emperor’s Gate.

At this moment, his great spear pointed from afar at the space between Ye Fan’s brows. With a gesture to those around him, his gaze went cold and ruthless as he prepared to charge.

Whether in the past or the present, Ye Fan would never tolerate anyone pointing a Great Sage weapon at his own immortal platform. Even when facing this many warriors — all Great Sages — he still responded with overwhelming force.

He left a residual afterimage in place, then struck from within the midst of ten thousand troops. His movement was too swift, and as powerful and thunderous as lightning — with a single palm he shattered the great spear.

Everyone cried out in shock. This was a host of Great Sages from many different factions. Ye Fan’s attack was swift and overwhelmingly powerful, yet it made every single person’s heart convulse.

The nominal disciple of the Lord of the Divine Court let out a great roar and fought back with all his strength, yet it was utterly futile. Ye Fan delivered a killing strike — his palm like a heavenly monument, falling in a direct, cleaving blow from above.

The spear had already been shattered. The blow’s momentum did not stop there. With a muffled thud it slapped apart the man’s oncoming double fists, then struck down upon his skull.

Without any suspense whatsoever, the Great Sage’s head burst apart like a watermelon, blood spraying in all directions. And Ye Fan did not withdraw — following through, that blue-scaled beast which had been lunging to bite him was also on the spot reduced to a puddle of flesh.

In that moment, the entire valley fell completely silent. With a single palm — just one — Ye Fan had cleaved apart the great spear, smashed the Great Sage’s skull, and slain the ancient exotic creature, the Blue-Scaled Beast.

In this place, silence descended to the absolute extreme — a deathly quiet.

In the distance, some had black Dao treasure vases floating above their heads, some were bare-chested, some had Overlord blood flowing within their bodies… at this moment, every gaze transformed into a blazing divine radiance.